When Two's a Crowd
by Tearless Sonnet
Summary: One large pack of all-purpose flour, canned tuna, and a very grumpy Natsume makes one trip to the grocery much more than bargained for. “No, Natsume!” she said. “That’s the fifth bag of catnip you’ve put into the cart, and I don’t even own a damn cat!"


Title: When Two's a Crowd

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Humor (_very_ slight crack)

Pairing: N.H. & M.S.

Warning(s): swearing, slight OOCness

Summary: One large pack of multi-purpose flour, canned tuna, and a very grumpy Natsume makes one trip to the grocery much more than bargained for.

"No, Natsume!" she said. "That's the fifth bag of catnip you've put into the cart, and I don't even own a damn cat!"

Author: Tearless Sonnet

Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice, because last time I checked, my name wasn't Higuchi Tachibana. . . or is it? (It isn't, just in case you were wondering.)

--

Mikan Sakura's morning ritual was just like any other's; wake up, take a shower, get dressed, head downstairs for a hearty breakfast, and then end up eating cold cereal from the refrigerator instead. What happened after that varied, as changes to that daily routine were scarce and insignificant.

But however, when the brunette looked into her fridge that morning—hoping, as always, for an extravagant breakfast—something was different. Perhaps it was the small dirty oil painting that hung in the corner of the room, whose occupant, a toad who looked remarkably like a pug, seemed to be watching her steadily with its beady black eyes. Maybe it was the unusual quiet that seemed much too out of the ordinary on that particular Saturday morning. Ever since she had moved into that particular neighborhood, frequent passerby had found it very amusing to screech at the top of their lungs, 'Good morning sunshine, the Earth says hello!', which, she was told, was the 'Saturday Wake-Up Call' and it was 'mandatory, or else anybody's everybody would suffer from Mikan-itis'. Yes, Mikan found that rather maddening. But this Saturday, not a sound was heard other than the annoyingly insistent ticking of the wall clock that reminded her every time she glanced at it that she desperately needed to have it muted or taken down, but she always forgot at some point. Or possibly, maybe, it was the fact that the refrigerator was _flat out empty_. Yes, perhaps it was that.

"No cereal?" Mikan mumbled to herself bemusedly. Nothing but a half-full carton of expired sour milk and a small packet of crumbly diet crackers infested with raisins (Mikan thought they looked like tiny ants stamped onto the crackers) were inside the fridge. She lifted the milk carton and checked under it, as if a plate of pancakes would magically appear if she wished hard enough. She glanced at the packet of crackers hopefully, before scowling in disappointment; she hated raisins. _When was the last time I went grocery shopping?_ she asked to herself, reminiscing. Not remembering anything of significance, she pushed the thought aside and wondered if there was anything to eat hidden somewhere. _Maybe there's some chow in the pantry. . ._

She crossed the hall and looked into the pantry eagerly for something, anything, to satisfy her hunger. Switching on the light, she sneezed violently into her hand and looked around. Completely bare shelves stood side by side, some covered in a fine layer of dust, others enclosed in dirt and grime. With a grim expression on her face, she made motion to close the door. _Maybe I'll just eat out or something, it _is_ a Saturday, after all. . ._ she thought. She glanced back at the pantry with a troubled expression on her face. She couldn't keep putting off the chore forever. With a heavy sigh, Mikan shifted to close the door, unexpectedly however, something caught her eye. To her surprise, one measly box of her favorite cereal stood alone and isolated on one of the shelves, almost completely unnoticeable with every inch of it covered in dust. Excited at any sign of food, whether it was dust-free or not, she took it down from the shelf and stared at it before checking to see what was left inside. Unfortunately, it was just an empty cardboard box. Mikan stared at it sadly and finally made up her mind, with no other option left for her to choose otherwise.

-

"No."

Mikan frowned, clearly upset, and tugged on her best friend's arm pleadingly. "Please Hotaru!"

"No," Hotaru replied bluntly as she typed furiously on her laptop, not bothering to look at the brunette.

Mikan pouted, her eyebrows furrowed as she carefully placed a shiny red **Lego™** block on top of the tall tower of multicolored bricks and blocks. She beamed as it stood majestically and scowled as the whole tower toppled over. She sighed, giving up on the tower, and tried again, "Go on, please! Come to the grocery with me! You're not doing anything anyway!" Hotaru clicked her tongue impatiently and swiveled her chair around to face Mikan.

"_No_," she hissed angrily. "And I _do_ have things to do; work on the negatives, finish my latest invention, discuss stock rising. So stop bothering me with your stupid chores." And with that, she promptly turned back to her laptop without another word. Mikan groaned, turning over on her back and grabbed a bright orange block from the remains of the ruined tower. She stared at it moodily, then chucked it without bothering to see where it ended up. A dull crash and an assortment of strange sounds was the apparent result.

Hotaru swore under her breath, stood up, and approached the scene of the crime. What seemed to be a broken telescope with an odd range of screws and dials lay on the carpeted marble floor, broken to pieces. Hotaru didn't say anything for a moment, but Mikan knew this was just the quiet before the storm. She held her breath, anticipating the worst.

"_Out_." Mikan looked up and stared at the raven haired girl, who looked absolutely livid, "Get out, now." Mikan gulped and immediately got to her feet.

"Okay, bye!" she squealed breathlessly, rushing out the door as fast as her feet could carry her. Hotaru leaned against the door, her eyes closed. She sighed and put a hand to her forehead.

_God, that idiot will be the death of me_.

-

"Hmph, that Hotaru. . ." Mikan muttered grudgingly to herself, walking alone down the street from Hotaru's house. "Not going to the grocery with me. . . kicking me out. . . and I didn't do anything. . ." After a second thought, she added, "At least, I didn't _mean_ to do anything. . ."

A cold breeze swept by the empty streets, and Mikan wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, her teeth chattering. She glanced around and about, finding no one, and started blabbering to herself without hesitation, "Stupid Hotaru! Stupid empty cereal box! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid TV guy who won't fix my cable properly! Stupid life! Stupid **Lego™** tower that can't stay up! Stupid grocery shopping!" In her anger, she kicked a loose pebble astray in her path, and sent it flying across the street. . . where it hit a raven haired stranger bulls eye.

"What the hell?!" the stranger cried, as the pebble hit him square on the head. Fortunately, it was an exceptionally small one, and didn't cause much damage besides a slightly throbbing head. Mikan visibly paled and rushed over to the victim.

"Oh my God, oh my God! I'm so, so sorry! Do you have a concussion? Are you bleeding anywhere? I'm so sorry! I'll go call an ambulance! Ah! What was their number again? Oh, what am I doing, asking you! You probably can't even see straight and to think it's all my fault!" Mikan panicked, reaching into her bag for her phone. A firm hand grasped a hold of her arm before she dialed the corresponding digits to call the ambulance.

"Shut up," a gruff, disgruntled voice said. Stuttering madly, Mikan looked up.

"N-Natsume?!" she said, surprised. Natsume Hyuuga stood in front of her in all his glory with a bruising forehead and a loathsome glare.

"Ugh," he uttered, looking at her in disgust. "It's you." Mikan pouted and put her hands on her hips.

"Well, sorry, Mr. Pebble-Boy!" Natsume stared at her.

". . .Pebble-Boy?" he snickered. "Is that all you can come up with? Pathetic." He sniffed and looked down at her with cold, smoldering crimson eyes.

Mikan began to see red. _How dare he?!_ she thought to herself angrily. _Of all the vile, evil, cold hearted bas—_

"What are you doing here anyway, little girl?" Natsume asked indifferently. She stuck her tongue out at him, quite maturely, he thought.

"Why should I tell you?" she snapped. "After all, you're—" Natsume waved her off uncaringly and, hands in his pockets, strode off in the other direction.

"Hey!" she protested, running after him. "I wasn't done talking yet, you rude, unsmiling man!" Natsume rolled his eyes. _Unsmiling_, he scoffed, real pathetic.

Mikan groaned and stomped her foot hard on the ground. Small dust particles hovered in the air; she coughed lightly and shook her head, trying to clear it. "Natsume!" she yelled. "Why can't you—" She stopped. Natsume halted as well. The silence was just about killing him. Why can't he _what_, dammit?!

"Why can't you. . ." Mikan paused. Natsume swore, again. Why couldn't he what? Why couldn't he stop being so damn sexy? . . . Somehow, he doubted she was going to say that. "Why can't you go to the grocery with me!"

Oh. Now _that_ was unexpected.

"Do I look like a servant to you, stupid?" he snapped angrily.

". . .No?"

"Of course not, idiot! Like I'd ever go grocery shopping like some common maid! More or less with you, of all people." Natsume turned to meet her wide, doe-like eyes. He blanched for a second.

"Since when have your eyes been that pretty?" he blurted, before he could stop himself. Mikan blinked. Natsume wanted to kill himself.

"Five seconds after you went blind, apparently," she answered, smirking. Natsume could have hit himself. "Now that the matter of my _gorgeous, glittering chocolate brown eyes_ has been settled, time to hit the grocery!" And with that, she grabbed a hold of his arm and tugged him down the street. Natsume followed, speechless, wondering when it all went wrong.

-

"I said **Lucky Charms™**, not **Cheerios™**! And put that back; I'm allergic!"

Note to self: _never_ go grocery shopping with Mikan Sakura.

"That's it! I've had enough." Natsume chucked an orange juice tetra pack in the cold metal cart Mikan was pushing, and grunted.

"Well, you should have thought of that first when you decided to go grocery shopping with me," Mikan said over her shoulder as she threw in a jelly snack-pack in the cart. "And I don't like this brand of detergent. Get the one with the prettier design; you know, the one that smells like flowers."

"Like hell I'm going to get that for you. Get it yourself," Natsume said. Mikan rolled her eyes. _Men_.

"Fine." She pointed over to aisle three. "Get some canned stuff over there, then." Natsume muttered some colorful foods under his breath.

"Bloody dictator—" Mikan raised an eyebrow.

"What was that you said?"

"I said, bloody dictator—" She smacked him hard with a carton of milk; the contents sloshed around inside the carton. Natsume glared at her. "Motherfu—OUCH!" Mikan rolled the cart over his foot.

"No swearing. Now, get those cans for me, please," she reprimanded sternly. And surprisingly, he went, not staying for any more surprise attacks from the brown-haired wench.

A few minutes later, he came back with an armful of canned food. He threw them in the cart disgracefully. "There're your stupid cans," he said. "Now leave me alone." Mikan picked one of them up skeptically.

"Canned tuna." She picked up another. "Canned sardines. Canned salmon. Canned mackerel. Canned herring. Caviar?!" She looked up at him accusingly. "These are all fish!" Natsume raised a brow.

"And?"

"And I. Don't. Like. Fish." She bared her teeth, hissing. Natsume leaned in closer to her. She unconsciously backed up a little bit.

"But. I. Do. So live with it, little girl." He smirked as she nearly knocked over a pyramid of cat nip. Heh, she looked pretty stupi—wait. _Wait_. Is that. . .? Natsume's eyes widened as he took a step closer to the bags of catnip. Finally! The new **King's Crown™** catnip! How long has he been waiting for that! Natsume immediately took the largest bag there and stuffed it into the cart. And another, and another, and another. . .

"No, Natsume!" cried Mikan. "That's the fifth bag of catnip you've put into the cart, and I don't even own a damn cat!"

"Shut up, idiot!" Natsume growled. She was interfering with his destiny!

"I said, stop it!" She pulled the bag of catnip from his grasp forcefully and glared. Uh oh. No she _di_-_uhn't_. Natsume's eyes narrowed dangerously, like an angry cat's. Ooh. It finally hit her. Black Cat. Natsume. Black _Cat_. _Natsume_. Ooh. She was in deep shi—

THUMP

Mikan looked down at her chest. It was covered in white flour. She looked up at Natsume, her eyes blazing cold fury. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.

This means war.

-

Akihiro Takana was the proud (albeit too proud) manager of the Central Tokyo Grocery Store. He was always prim and point from head to toe and was strict on, well, everything. His hair had to be combed and gelled to perfection every morning, his goatee and mustache straightened and combed as well. Akihiro Takana took great pride in his facial hair, after all. His crisp black business attire, though a bit too posh for his actual job, was neat and ironed for him every morning.

So when a sudden, out-of-the-blue handful of white multi-purpose flour hit him square on his face, then spilled down onto his handsome fancy-pants suit, he was positively murderous. He looked at the cause of the mayhem: two teenagers, one male, the other female, covered from head to foot in white flour. They looked like ghosts. But Akihiro Tanaka did not care what they looked like. No meddling teenagers driven by hormones and steroids were going to bring him down! No, he had stepped on too many people and crushed too many dreams for it be over now. And so he did what any other perfectly normal, sane person would do: he threw them out, wiping his hands after the deed was done.

"Those meddlesome kids," he murmured to himself disdainfully, before strutting (Akihiro Tanaka does not walk; he struts) to his office for a nice hot mug of coffee. He'd have to remind his dry-cleaners to clean out that big white stain on his suit especially well when he got home.

Damn straight, Akihiro Tanaka, damn straight.

-

"This is all your fault," moaned a distressed Mikan as she and her male counter part sat side by side on a bench near the subway. She purposefully ignored the people giving her strange looks, but nevertheless tried to subtly dust off a bit of the flour stuck to the front of her shirt without attracting too much attention.

"Stop it," Natsume said glumly. "It's not going to help, anyway." The two moody teenagers sat together, staring at the bright blinking lights of the suburban society.

"And I didn't even get to bring home the groceries," Mikan said, her depressed face looking very pitiful in the dim light.

Natsume sighed and stood up. He offered her a hand without looking at her. "Come on," he said when she didn't take it. He looked at her. She was staring at his hand with a sort of amazed expression on her face. Her eyes traveled up to meet his. They stared at each other for a long time without speaking. At last, it was Natsume who broke the silence.

"Let's just eat out," he said. Mikan smiled. "Your treat," he added. Her smile wavered a bit, but she nevertheless took his hand.

"Fine," she said, gripping his hand in a warm grasp as they walked to the nearest restaurant. "Who needs stupid grocery shopping, anyway?"

Fin


End file.
